


Kiss and Shoot

by SilverySparks



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, One Shot, POV John Watson, definitely not the height of my abilities but oh well, this is four years old but I realised just now that I never posted it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 23:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12758871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverySparks/pseuds/SilverySparks
Summary: Sherlock tries to reconstruct the circumstances of a murder… and John has to play the victim.





	Kiss and Shoot

„John, what is the best way to shoot a person while kissing them?“

“To _what_?” I looked up from the book I was reading. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to unusual questions from Sherlock, but this one was definitely a new kind of weird.

Sherlock failed to realise that my reply had been a rhetorical question. “What is the best way to shoot a person while kissing them?” he repeated impatiently.

“How would I know? I’ve never tried,” I said.

“The kissing or the shooting?”

I turned around and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Sherlock, did you just make a joke?”

“When?”

“When you said- about the kissing and the shooting.”

“That was a serious question.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve kissed people, and I’ve shot people, as you know perfectly well. What I have not done is a combination of both.”

“Why not?”

“Why- Because I usually like the people I kiss,” I replied exasperatedly, “and I don’t shoot people I like.”

“Oh.” Sherlock continued to brood in silence. After a while, he said thoughtfully, “I’ve never done it either, you know.”

“Done what?”

“Shoot a person while kissing them.”

I was about to reply something along the lines of “Obviously you haven’t,” but then I realised that with Sherlock it wasn’t obvious at all, so I just looked at him. He scrutinized me as he often did, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, he jumped up and clapped his hands. “Let’s try it!” he announced.

“Try what?”

“Kiss and shoot.”

“Alright, fine,” I said distractedly. “Hang on. _What_?”

“You heard me.”

“And… who were you planning to shoot, if I might ask?”

“You.”

“ _Me_?!” I trusted Sherlock, but this was going a bit far.

“Yes,” Sherlock said drily, giving me an amused smile. “With this.” He held up a toy gun. I rolled my eyes again – I did that a lot in his presence. As always, Sherlock remained unfazed. “You stand over there,” he ordered, pointing at a stretch of bare wall. “You’re the victim.”

“Flattering,” I said. The victim in this case was a 20-year-old college student. A female college student. Still, I obeyed.

“Perfect,” said Sherlock. “Now, I am the murderer. I enter the room,” – he stepped through an imaginary door – “with the gun hidden inside a bouquet.” He grabbed the muzzle of the gun with his left hand like the stem of a flower.

“Why is it hidden inside a bouquet?”

“If I hide it inside my clothes, you’ll feel it when I hug you. No, I’m carrying it in my hand, but I still need something to hide it in. What is the most logical thing to bring my girlfriend? Exactly, a bouquet.”

“Oh,” I said. I had been distracted by the words “when I hug you”. He wasn’t planning to… was he? “Sherlock,” I said slowly, “Sherlock, what are you-”

He ignored me. “So I walk up to you with my bouquet,” he said and did so, holding the gun in front of him. He positioned himself about a foot away from me, looked down at the gun, and frowned. “But how do I get the gun out of the…” I could see his eyes twitch as he went through the different options in his mind. I loved watching him think. The grey-green of his eyes always seemed to get slightly darker when he did so, as if to hint at the depth of the thoughts passing behind them.

I let my eyes wander down over his cheekbones to his slightly parted lips. Looking at them I remembered the first part of what Sherlock had promised to do: “Kiss and shoot.” Kiss. Had he been serious? The shooting part had turned out to feature a toy gun. Surely that meant he wasn’t planning on kissing me, either. That was good. Yes. Good.

Any moment now Sherlock would reach his conclusion. I pictured him turning away, dashing over to his phone or hurrying out the door. I always liked those first seconds after Sherlock had figured something out: the rush of adrenaline, the promise of adventure, the joy of seeing Sherlock Holmes in his element. But now, picturing it, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret. Setting off would require Sherlock to step away from me, and I was rather enjoying his closeness.

I was- what? I frowned slightly, incredulous, but it was true. Undeniably, irrefutably true. I enjoyed feeling the heat his body gave off. I enjoyed feeling his breath in my hair. I enjoyed looking at the vacant expression in his storm cloud eyes…

Only his expression wasn’t vacant at all. He was looking down at me, right into my eyes, his lips still slightly parted. “Yes,” he whispered, and his deep, melodic voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Yes, I believe I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” I asked, slightly breathless. The intensity of his gaze made my pulse leap and stutter like a stumbling racehorse.

“The best way to shoot a person while kissing them,” he said, still in that throaty murmur.

“So what – ahem, what is it, then?” I inquired haltingly, trying hard not to stare at his lips. Impossibly, his eyes seemed to turn even darker. They were a deep mossy green now.

“Let me show you,” he whispered. I closed my eyes. And with an overwhelming wave of heat rushing from my toes to my fingertips, his lips met mine.

I gasped, and wrapped my arms around his waist. I heard a _bang_ as the toy gun dropped to the floor, and then I was caught inside his strong arms, and his mouth brushed my cheek.

“John, are you okay with this?” he murmured into my ear. I looked up into his eyes, suddenly resolute. “It’s fine,” I said, hooking my fingers into the belt loops of his trousers and pulling him closer. “It’s _all_ fine.”


End file.
